


Savior

by hysteriadreams



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Belldom - Freeform, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Religious Conflict, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hysteriadreams/pseuds/hysteriadreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Matthew contemplates the consequences of his sexual desires.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Savior

**Author's Note:**

> Never thought I'd write something like this, but here goes. Matthew's inner conflict struck me hard while writing this and it soon transformed from a drabble into something much longer. Hope you all enjoy it.

 

 

The army of demons approach me, slow and bestial in their gait. They come at me, their inhuman feet carrying them one step closer to my body each passing second, each passing breath, each passing heartbeat. They have a reason, only one reason, for visiting me in my dreams: to rob me of my purity, to rob me of my innocence. My chastity and my virtue is what keeps them alive; it is their one motivation for haunting me relentlessly. They crave my clean soul because it is their blank canvas, and for one moment they feel like artists, smearing the darkest of paints into the blank wall of good moral.

They want to dirty it. 

They want to rid it of all holy thoughts and actions. 

They want to take credit for the most sinful work of art, my soul. In many ways, my pure mind drives them insane.

Insane.  _ Insane. _ Insanity:  _ n. the condition of being insane; a derangement of the mind. _

Is that what I am, demented? ‘Tis a question I ask myself frequently, yet I never seem to have the answer. However here I am, going through this procedure once and over again, expecting a different result, but expecting a sliver of hope is useless, here in my imagination. I must surrender to the void of fantasies and prohibited desires, they tell me. They growl and roar at me. They scream and shout at me. As if I couldn’t  _ hear _ them. . .

Their presence feels so real, so interactive, so  _ agonizing _ .

Once again, I look up with hooded eyes and they’re just a few feet away from me, the red sky tinted with their sins and rage. I block them, I block them all. I try, at least; my mind’s resistance is shattering, crumbling and succumbing.

“No,” I growl. Many burning suns before this one, I tried and succeeded at resisting to their control and monstrosity. But now, as their piercing demonic eyes steal a glance at my core, my shining light of strength and virtue, I feel myself weaken, weaken still,  _ weaken always _ .

Ironic, is it not? What once kept me strong is now falling to pieces and sacrificing me to the Lords of Immorality. The army of one million dark, inhuman souls have stopped before me, their hungry gaze making me shiver. Is this what they do before handing me over to sin, weaken my senses to make the struggle less intense?

I don’t want to find out, but my nerve system is reacting to the sudden fear and vulnerability my body is experiencing. The light in my soul, the light in my heart, has dimmed. Blurred. Faded. It’s become as opaque as fog at the crack of dawn.

Suddenly, all their voices shout at me in unison. 

_ Lust will reign your eyes,  _

_ temptation will reign your heart,  _

_ sin will reign your soul. _

Their chant, loud and agonizing, is like a broken symphony of blaring pleas, willing to rinse me clean of good. It’s ear-splitting and splicing through my core like a sharpened knife.

I feel my knees weaken and soon I am crouching on the red, burning floor. Their song gets louder, louder. . .  _ deafening _ . . .

“Please,” I beg. Tears rim my sapphire eyes as I squint in their direction. The pain is excruciating now and it fills my veins with such a fire, such a  _ hatred _ , that I fear losing myself in the process. I probably already have. 

“ _ Please _ ,” I repeat with a strained cry. My whole body is on fire now and their heinous tune is only adding wood to the flame—the flame that will forever burn within me as a reminder of my shameful surrender.

_ Lust will reign your eyes, _

_ temptation will reign your heart, _

_ sin will reign your soul. _

My blood, oh how it is blazing! A strangled cry escapes my lips as I writhe on the floors of Hell, all the sand and the fire and the wrongdoings that lie here engulfing me in a bound hug. A clasp never to be broken, but to remain eternal until death.

Where are my saviors? My protectors? My guardians?

_ My Angels? _

Have they been captured as well? Have they been pressured to fault? I need reassurance and relief; I need to feel their whispers and sweet voices fill my head with comfort, for surely I will go insane. I crave their graceful elegance and their unblemished hearts, because I just need something good in the world.

_ Lust will reign your eyes, _

_ temptation will reign your heart, _

_ sin will reign your soul. _

My agony still burns but I allow the few strength I have in me to look up. The demonic creatures have retreated, and in their place there’s a young man who looks to be my age. Their song still surrounds me but all this is unfamiliar to me, for I have never ventured this far into my fantasy.

Yet this man, this familiar  _ face _ , makes me forget my anguish for a second. I crawl closer to him as he too approaches me. His bare feet are only inches away from me, yet my arms give out and all I can do is lie there on the ground, the burning ground. . .

Seconds later I feel a hand touch my chin and lift my face. I squint against the flaming light and gasp, for that face I can recognize anywhere. 

“Dominic,” I breathe. Suddenly it all makes sense. I know what I must do to please these filthy souls. 

They sent him to me for a reason.

What a sick game they play.

  
  
  
  


One ring, two. Heavy breathing. 

“Hello?”

“Dominic. . ."

“Matthew?. . . Jesus, how are you? You haven’t rung in  _ ages _ , Matt.” His voice is tinted with genuine surprise and subtle concern. “I called many times, but. . .” he trails off. 

Hearing his voice is a comfort to say the least, but there’s a certain urgency inside me, and it’s completely out of my control. I’ve decided on the road I want to take and I can’t hesitate now. My voice trembles as I say, “Dominic, I—I need you. . .  _ here _ . . . with me.” I realize a tear is running down my cheek as if my heart is resisting what I'm about to do.

“Uh yes, of course.” He hesitates. “Is something wrong, Matt?”

I sigh and close my eyes, wiping the tear away with the side of my hand. “Nothing's wrong, I just—”

“What is it?” he urges.

“I need you.”

My pleas confuse him. “Okay. Well, right. . . be there in a moment then.”

I hang up. 

  
  
  
  


Desire, passion and lust have always intrigued me—the particular mindset of loving someone, the intention of craving someone.  _ Something _ . The definition of sex, love and control were unclear to me, for I had never before experienced anything of that nature. Until now.

It’s beautiful what seduction can do, what it can create; two human beings in one room, one bed, can nourish love. Nourish feelings and obsession. Nourish _ sin _ .

His breath mingles with mine and it’s a feeling so foreign, so intimate, that I worry I may break, anguished only by a fear of separation. Gasps are exchanged, kisses are sloppily thrown. I’m new at this but fuck me, everything feels so natural. Our movements turn into one, our bodies so close that they connect by mind and soul.

I feel my body react to the slightest touch, and the room fills with the sounds of our labored breaths.

His tongue laps at my bleeding sweat and I grasp his soft hair, as if guiding him to all the right places, to all the  _ pure _ places, so he can dirty them with his passion, his arousal. As his kisses trail down my neck towards my exposed chest, I look towards my bedroom wall. 

There, hammered to the wall like a vague reminder of what I used to be—what I  _ should _ be—is a cross. It shares a space with all the other objects that used to make up my identity; the Holy books, the prayer scripts. . . everything left to gather dust, because as I feel the physical love of someone against my skin, I realize I’ve been blind all these years. 

My religion is him. His kiss, his touch, his  _ sex _ —they’re all book, script and prayer. His love is faith. Our filthy deeds is sermon.

My religion is sin.

My prayer is his name.

I bring his lips toward mine again in a heated kiss. I savor everything. I savor his tongue, his teeth, his _ taste _ because nothing lasts forever. His fingers caress my face, my chest, my stomach and I caress his skin. His back. His spine. His  _ scars _ , because every one of them hold a different memory, a different story. Every ridge and bone, every breath and moan are exposed in the light. Nothing is left in the dark. Our carnal desire for one another is evident in our steady rhythm.

We move as one. We love as one. We  _ are _ one.

Our sex is unlike anything we’ve experienced before. Back then I was scared and anxious; every time he would bring it up, I would deny him. I was too bound to my religion to do what I really wanted. I’ve always wanted Dominic, but fear reigned over me. 

My dreams, my  _ nightmares _ , were edging me on, urging me to do the opposite. My demons growled at me. They roared at me, and I succumbed to their pleas. But now, as Dominic bites, sucks, and licks at me, I feel dirtier than ever. 

Filthy, even.

“I love you,” he murmurs against my skin, “You know I always have.” He pauses his kisses to slowly breathe in my scent of arousal.

I can only sigh with contentment as I look down at his golden hair, his nose nudging at the corner of my lip as he kisses my jaw. "I love you, too," I whisper. “Always.” Sentiment suits me well. With a deep growl, Dominic crashes his lips against mine once more. In a clash of lips, tongue and teeth, he has the upper hand. His tongue pushes past my teeth and I let out a shameless moan, reveling in his warmth and his taste, and realizing I want more. Just then, he grabs hold of my hair and pulls my head back, attacking my neck.

There he is, my dark angel. My savior in love, my savior in wrong. His halo now tinted with black clouds and rain, no longer shining and bright, but that’s exactly how I want him. I moan again and feel my body going on sensory overload as I breathe in his skin, his hair, his  _ want _ . He was always more toned and athletic than I was, and with his bare body in full display on top of me, I can only crave him even more. 

His fingertips flutter down my torso and come to a rest on my member. The hungry eyes he throws at me remind me of my demons, and for a fleeting moment I hesitate. But I regain composure as I gaze at the fire burning in his winter eyes and smile, letting him know it’s alright.

His face lights up and he offers me his hand. I throw hungry eyes at him as I spit on his palm and he wastes no time slicking himself up with lubrication. After a few tugs to his cock, he slowly spreads my legs. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for the foreign feeling that’s about to wash over me.

Slowly and cautiously, he enters me. I knew it would be different, but I had no idea it would feel like this. There’s pain mixed with pleasure, but I enjoy all of it. I moan loudly and he seems to enjoy the feedback. “Oh,  _ fuck _ ,” I gasp. The feeling of being so  _ full _ yearns for more contact. I have a new thirst, frenzied and determined, for his passion. For  _ all _ his love. I want him to be mine and I want me to be only his.

I guess this is what obsession feels like.

“God, you feel so good,” he moans. "So tight." His head is thrown back, his eyes closed, and his rhythm increases in pace. Completely ignoring the tart irony in his words, my whimpers and begs increase with his too, and I feel like this is the rebirth of my soul.

The renaissance of my life.

He grabs my pale, sharp hips and enters me faster and with a new angle that makes me shout the filthiest of hallelujahs. "God,  _ yes _ ," I pant. I move my hips up with his to try and gain friction. “ _ Fuck.  _ Faster, baby.”

His hands now rest on either side of my torso and I know I won’t last long. He's pounding into me, the slap of his skin against mine and our heavy breathing the only sounds in the room. Our bodies slide with the slick sheen of sweat that covers them. My face is flushed and so is his. My hair is wet and so is his. 

It’s fucking glorious.

I suddenly shut my eyes and bite my lip as I feel myself reaching the climax. I feel his hot breath on my neck and his pants getting louder and heavier. He too won’t last long.

Suddenly, my body burns with electricity as the most pleasurable feeling blooms inside me. I cry out his name and open my eyes, my white release evident in his tan abdomen. I see it slide down his stomach to where our bodies are connected in the most fragile of places. Seconds after, I feel his warmth spill inside of me as he moans my name and I know that I will want this feeling forever.

I never want to get rid of it, I never want to let it go.

He collapses on top of me and I cradle him, our gasps the only sounds filling the air. We both twitch once, maybe twice, for this is all new to us. Our breaths eventually even out, just like our heartbeat. We stay in that position for a few minutes and it gives me time to think things through.

Dominic took my purity, my virtue, my virginity and I can only thank him. We committed one of the seven deadly sins: the one of Lust. We have become the definition of immorality and immorality has become the definition of us. But with a love like Dominic’s, I don’t care anymore.

I gave myself to sin.

 

 


End file.
